by Afaa M. Weaver I was parading the Cote d'Azur， hopping the short trains from Nice to Cannes， following the maze of streets in Monte Carlo to th...
by Eula Biss My father told us stories every night about strange little animals that came out in the dark. When my father was away， my mother read us ...
by Walt McDonald Shiny as wax， the cracked veneer Scotch-taped and brittle. I can't bring my father back. Legs crossed， he sits there brash with a...
by E. E. Cummings my father moved through dooms of love through sames of am through haves of give， singing each morning out of each night my father mo...
by Alan Feldman The year I was born the atomic bomb went off. Here I'd just begun， and someone found the switch to turn off the world. In the furn...
by Adam Zagajewski （Translated by Clare Cavanagh） Always caught up in what they called the practical side of life （theory was for Plato）， up to their ...
by David Hernandez My condolences to the man dressed for a funeral， sitting bored on a gray folding chair， the zero of his mouth widening in a yawn. N...
by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers There's fairness in changing blood for septet's guardian rhythm， the horn blossoming into cadenza. No good p...
by Meena Alexander I was young when you came to me. Each thing rings its turn， you sang in my ear， a slip of a thing dressed like a convent girl white...
by Shel Silverstein Everything's wrong， Days are too long， Sunshine's too hot， Wind is too strong. Clouds are too fluffy， Grass is too green， ...